Too much of a good thing

The Passage, as we know it, dismembered

Another year decembered.

It’s been no Bosch painting. Maybe it’s because the year’s taking with it undergrad college, that I feel drippy. Lessons were learnt. Fingers, burnt. Oversights. Love bytes. Subsequent Red eye removal too. Some lovely fixtures and then some. Attention seeking. Attention getting. Keepsakes. Sweet chariot cakes. Sizing up, Growing up, Up yours, ‘Sup mate’s.

Now, after the breakneck speed with which the 2 years whizzed by, if you said ‘It’s something unpredictable, but in the end it’s right... I hope you had the time of your life’, I’d reply with a ‘Yes’ without as much as a second thought.

I’ll miss some people more than I’ll ever work up the humility to admit.

Why am I reminded of you

When my favorite song plays  

Averted eyes and half-smiles

Of never-been days                

Afterthoughts: What is UP with me! I'm making gay lines rhyme when everybody else is recruiting melt-in-my-eyes dates to snog on New Year's Day. I must've sensed something was radically wrong when the only analogy I could drawto my interest-in-guys curve was an inverse Newton's Law of Cooling graph. But I learn from my mistakes. Next time Bonham's symbol reminds me of pending Venn diagrams, the stop-mugging alarm will go off. 

Labels: cheesyimpulsivepoetry